Uncle Frycook

Of all the relatives I hold dear to my heart, I think I liked Uncle Frycook the best. He was actually a great grand uncle by marriage to Elspeth, a fourth cousin several times removed on Antwerp's branch of the family tree, she being some relation or other to Zelda and me by way of my grandma (the nice one, not the other who was surely spawned by an ogre).

Uncle Frycook was the family comedian. He could make a funny story of most any event.  He could make a poor wench feel like a princess, make a chubby little girl like me feel radiantly beautiful with his smile and his twinkling eyes.

Maybe that was what I loved about Uncle Frycook He was charming,  funny and, above all, kind.  A hug from Uncle Frycook would keep one smiling for weeks.

Uncle was a giver of gifts, not advice or criticism. A tie made of pearls, a knickknack for your whatnot shelf, a surprise drive in the country ending with two scoops of banana ice cream....ah, he could spoil you with his kindness. 

It was his gentleness that finally finished him.

A dear soul, a neighbor of the Frankincense family by the name of Myrrh, was trapped in a mine (yes, gold) one wintry day in October (yeah, those days happen).  Frycook was taking advantage of the early snowfall by snowshoeing near the mine entrance when he heard the hollering from the shaft. He wasn't able to get Myrrh out, but he did manage to feed his warm wool coat and a bag of peanut M&M's through the small hole. Poor Frycook got caught  in a a freak blizzard that night and was never seen again. Some say he was eaten by a mountain lion, others that he was stolen by aliens. Myrrh was found some two months later, kept alive by M&M's, a slow-moving freshwater stream and a mad desire to live long enough to claim all the gold in the mine for herself.

Uncle Frycook played only a small, short part in my life and in Tiddlewink's diary. Tall in stature, big in heart, a giant of a man in every way that counts.....farewell, Uncle.